Moral Obligations
by Kailey Hamilton
Summary: Will Michael, Anthony, and Terry survive the Yule Ball? Or will they be overpowered by the girls in their lives? Three-shot for Rochelle.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Vivian Goldstein, Becky Mayer and Daria Jaskowiak belong to yours truly. Everyone else belongs to the copyright holders (JKR/WB and associates.)_

_Notes:__ This is going to be posted as a three-shot, originally intended as a one-shot that got out of hand. It's all written for __**Rochelle (slightlysmall)**__ for the GGE. Special thanks to __**Sam**__ (moral support) __**Paula**__ (resident honorary Brit) __**Kelly**__ and __**Jess**__ (idea-bouncers extraordinaire) and __**Jess**__ again (beta-reads like a boss.)_

_**Roo:**__ I feel as if I should apologize that this is so long, and please don't feel the duty to pay it much attention, or to even read past Chapter 1. I know you're a busy lady and I'd hate to impose. I will confess, however, that I'm extremely glad I wrote this and, as always, ecstatic that someone cares about these kiddos as I do. Either way, I really hope you find at least some enjoyment in this (not gonna lie, I know I did!) I miss you lots, Roo!_

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><p><span><strong>Moral Obligations<strong>

**Part 1/3**

.

_Michael Corner - December 10, 19:06._

I just don't know how to feel about this Yule Ball thing they announced today. I did suggest to Terry that the three of us should go together - no girls, no pointless worries. He 'declined the offer' as if I was doing him a favor (what a berk) and Anthony looked far too happy about the ball for me to try and push it. It's not like I can't get a girl... I even had my chance today, since the ball had been all the talk among what remained of our Quidditch team. I only realized that I'd missed a chance when Diggory took Cho apart from us all after catching the Snitch.

Oh well.

The almost-empty Ravenclaw common room is a sight for sore eyes after the friendly game against the 'Puffs and a particularly difficult riddle. I'm not hungry. I'm tired, mostly, and wanting to be away from all Yule Ball talk. Even thinking of the Great Hall makes me shudder.

I scan the common room. There's Mandy Brocklehurst, huddled in an armchair with a heavy book. Near the fire, there's a group of upperclassmen comparing notes. Vivian Goldstein is sitting in a windowsill, so small and quiet that I almost didn't see her at first.

I head her way without hesitation.

"Alright, Vi?" I sit on a sofa by her feet. She doesn't even look my way.

"How was the game?" she asks.

"We lost."

"Shame on you."

I can't help but smile.

"Why aren't you at supper?"

"Why aren't you at supper?"

"Not hungry."

"Well, me neither."

I know not to insist. Whatever's going through her head, she'll tell me if she wants to.

Sure enough, she speaks immediately. I know her too well.

"Michael, do you know what makes me angry? The Charms Club is going to help with the arrangements for the Ball. So I _can_ help. They're even asking us to stay for the holidays. But I still can't attend the Ball. Where's the logic in that? It's not fair."

I contain a sigh. Can people just shut up about the ball? But I can't really lash out on her, not when she's doing nothing wrong by confiding in me.

"You have to understand-"

"Don't, Michael. I won't understand. Is it because upperclassmen will be attending? What can happen? Do they even realize what goes on behind their backs? Those numpties." She finally looks my way. "A fourteen-year-old just fought a blasted dragon not a month ago, but God forbid the little ones go to a ball! And I'm not even getting house points for this! You'd think we'd get something out of helping..."

"You can say no. They can't force you."

"Well, I'm staying anyway. Dad's going to Israel to visit his relatives... no, just no. And if I'm here, I'll help."

She's still disgruntled, and I'm running out of options. It's rubbish. Why can't eleven-year-olds go to a stupid dance? They can put measures in place to make sure younger kids will be safe, but they're just making matters worse by only allowing them to attend if-

"You can still go as someone's date, can't you? Don't lose all hope."

She laughs. Well, that's progress.

"Thank God Anthony isn't around to hear you. He'd tell you I'm too young for dating. And maybe he's right... please don't tell him that I said this. I just want to go with my friends. I want to dance. Did Anthony ever tell you I dance a bit? I took jazz lessons before Hogwarts."

Anthony said something of the sort, but at the time, it wasn't a detail I particularly cared about. But hearing it now... Why didn't I think of this before? It's so obvious.

"I could take you, if you want." I have to be careful. "I can dance. Mum wouldn't let me live until I learned. So what do you say?"

I can only hope I made the proposal clear enough for Vi not to misinterpret it. She's not blushing, thankfully, nor does she express any excitement. I'd be offended, but this is much better than having her fancy me or form any kind of silly expectations, which I just can't allow.

There's a small smile on her face, however, as she turns toward me.

"Won't my brother murder you over this?"

"It's clear to you that this is not a date, right?" She rolls her eyes and sighs, nodding vehemently. "Then he may try, but I think we'll be okay."

* * *

><p><span><em>Mandy Brocklehurst - December 13, 11:35.<em>

For fuck's sake. I have to go out in this cold just so I can read in peace.

See, my dorm is not always an option. Not when Morag and Lisa gossip about their boyfriends, Padma whines about wanting to go just with the girls, and Su chimes in with derisive comments that make me wonder why she doesn't get the fuck out.

Girls are dumb. But it's not only girls, and it's gotten so bad that even the common room isn't safe. The library would be fine, if it wasn't for the horde of girls chasing Krum. As it is, the cold, snowy grounds are the only place I'm truly alone.

"Hello, Mandy."

Or not.

I look up to find Anthony Goldstein. He's all bundled up, with a Ravenclaw scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. His hands are clutching his cloak against his body, but he seems to be shrugging it all off with a smile.

"I know no one likes to be interrupted when reading," he says before I can greet him. "I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute."

Anthony isn't rude to people. I'm not about to be rude to him.

"I'm listening."

He kneels down in front of me as I put away my book. I look at him closely. His face is one I would've associated with a cruel person -all thin lines and angles, and a stare that reaches deep- but he speaks in a soft murmur and a good nature that erases such an impression at once.

He's so infuriatingly soft, I can't even be angry at the interruption.

"Look, I know this is going to seem weird, because we don't really talk, but... I was just wondering, Mandy, if you would like to go to the ball with me."

It was a question posed with too much exactitude for me not to be wary.

"As a... date?"

Anthony doesn't answer right away. His jawline becomes more marked, but he doesn't show any other signs of being taken aback.

"Yes," he says finally. "I'm asking you out on a date."

"We don't really talk."

"Can't imagine why." His open palm is pointing at my book, and his tone, harsher than usual, is clearly intended to mean 'didn't I just say that?'

Before I realize what's going on, I'm smiling. I can even picture Anthony trying to find a moment, trying to get me alone... and maybe if it was someone else, I would indulge in questions like _why? why me? is this a joke or something? did you lose a dare?_ But when it comes to Anthony Goldstein, those questions are an insult. No. I can't doubt him. There's overwhelming evidence indicating that he's a genuine bloke that, for some reason, wants to take me on a date.

He must be nuts.

"Alright," I find myself saying, against my better judgment. "I'll go with you to the ball."

"Really? Okay. Great." He smiles wide. I look down. "Right. Well. My minute is over, isn't it? Enjoy your read."

"Talk to you later," I manage to say, and it's more of a promise than a casual goodbye.

Right now I need the solitude I'm used to. But I can't go back to my book. Do I have a date to the Yule Ball? Is said date a bloke that's actually interested in me? A bloke I have a high opinion of?

These things don't happen to me.

I wonder if I'm on time to mail-order some dress robes...

* * *

><p><span><em>Daria Jaskowiak - December 17, 21:12.<em>

It's been a month since I met Terry Boot in the library. Let me tell you, he's so puzzling.

He's cool, don't get me wrong. But it's the first time in my life I've managed to become friends with a bloke that doesn't act like he wants under my skirt - especially one as young and awkward as he is. From what I understand, he belongs to the house of the smart people. So maybe that's got something to do with it. I could tell right away, when he approached me out of the blue.

_"Is that a fidelity ring?"_Terry had asked, staring at my hands. _"I'm sorry- it's personal, isn't it? But... isn't that considered Dark Arts? What happens if any of you does cheat? What happens if any of you tries to lift the enchantment?"_He then went red, and only then looked at me in the eye. _"I'm so sorry, I don't mean to imply anything, not at all. I'm just curious."_

I was a bit bothered by his nosiness, but could tell he meant no harm. Either way, I was surprised he recognized what my ring means. I found that to be an interesting conversation starter. We sort of became friends after that, or at least we remained in a sitting-at-the-same-table-on-the-library basis.

Let me tell you, this is the first time a Hogwarts boy promised he'd teach me proper English, and actually teaches me English.

"...though you don't need help with it," he was telling me now. "You speak brilliant English-"

"Not enough for a job in International Magical Cooperation. I speak it well... I mostly have issues with written English. Which I'll need."

"Well, you can write my assignments for me. That'll help you practice." He does that thing in which I don't know whether he's serious or not. "You can read. Take a good book you enjoyed and read it in English."

"That's also how I learned Russian."

"You must be so clever." There is nothing insincere in the gleam in his eyes.

"Yeah, well. I'm very much forced to. If you want to go to Durmstrang, you have to learn Russian. My boyfriend is a native speaker, so that's extra incentive..." But thinking about that makes me sad. "I was supposed to go back to see him these holidays."

"Why aren't you?"

"Distance can't kill me. Karkaroff can. He's telling us that we'll disgrace Durmstrang if we don't go to that ball, and it's part of our obligation as a delegation, blah blah, you know the drill. International Magical Cooperation, now isn't it? Yet, I've got nothing to do there, Terry. Nothing."

Remind me again why I'm whining to a fourteen-year-old?

"Me neither." He shrugs. There is something bitter about the way in which he's suddenly looking away, playing with his quill so harshly that he almost breaks it in two.

"Why not?"

"I just... don't like big events."

"What about your friends? Or a girl?"

"Yeah, well. None of it's going to happen, okay?" He pauses for a second and looks away. Terry never loses his cool like this. It's all the more intriguing. "I'm sorry. It's just... she's got a boyfriend, and she's going with him, of course." He says this in a whisper that is hard to hear. I wonder just how hard it's for him to confess this. "My friends... they have their own plans. I have no business there."

"Let's go together, then." The words escape me before I can truly think them over. "I want Karkaroff off my back and don't lie, I can tell you want to go. I'd like to be introduced to your friends, too."

"Anthony won't stop asking questions about the Jewish Holocaust. And Michael won't stop flirting with you."

"I think I can handle it. That's unfair of you, anyway, considering you haven't stopped asking me questions since I met you... and you flirt, if only a little." Okay, I'm the one being unfair. He doesn't flirt. I just want to gauge his reaction.

Sure enough, there's a faint blush on Terry's face, but no shame in the way he glares at me and crosses his arms.

"I'm not flirting with you, Daria, and I really hope that's clear." He pauses, then points an accusatory finger at me. "You are the one asking me out, Miss Fidelity Ring."

I was used to him stuttering, being almost perpetually apologetic. But he's incensed now. Now I know I've made the right choice.

"You're completely right. I am asking you to the ball. You can either be bitter and stay in your dorm, be a fifth wheel, or go with me. I'd personally find it boring to go alone - it's either you, or dateless."

"You flatter me," he says flatly, with a straight face. Is he serious or...? I'll never understand these British people. "We have a deal."

I smile tentatively, but he doesn't return the gesture. I know him enough not to expect him to. And I guess this means we're really friends now.

"Now tell me, Terry… who is this girl, anyway?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Notes:__ Same as the chapter before, with the added warning that I didn't use the format for the Yule Ball they used in the books, but the one in the movies. This is still for Roo, and I'm still thankful for everyone else who made this possible._

* * *

><p><span><strong>Moral Obligations<strong>

**Part 2/3**

.

_Terry Boot - December 21, 17:58._

The screams are heard from the common room, so before anyone can start listening in, I rush upstairs to see what the fuck is going on.

"_Brocklehurst_, Anthony?" I hear as I'm entering the room. "Really? Are you expecting to, I don't know, have fun?"

"Are you expecting to have fun _with my sister_?"

"Whoa, whoa. Stop it, you two." I get in between them soon enough. No broken noses yet. Yay. But Anthony is furious, so I turn to Michael. "What the hell did you do?"

"He asked my sister to the ball," Anthony answers. "The same day it was announced."

_What the fuck, mate, _I want to say. I knew Michael had a date. He just didn't want to say who. But now I know, and want my two best friends alive and well. So I keep quiet.

"It's not a date," he says, his eyes fixed on Anthony's. His palms are raised toward him, as if trying to keep him at bay. "She wanted to attend. I offered to take her."

"If, in your eyes, you're doing nothing wrong, why didn't you tell me sooner?" Anthony speaks sense.

"I should have. I know... but you never mentioned Brocklehurst, ever. And that-"

"You asked out Mandy Brocklehurst?" This is getting worse by the minute. How on Earth did I befriend these twits?

...And now they both glare at me. Great. Now I'm caught in the middle. Literally. Good job, Terry.

"Turns out," Michael says, "he's been fancying her for a while now."

Anthony rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it. Mandy Brocklehurst? Really? I don't want to get too... colorful, but let's just say she's the last girl I'd want to see Anthony with.

"Wait, wait. She said yes?" I ask. Anthony smiles and nods as if he, too, hadn't been expecting it. I don't want more trouble, so I say, "None of my business, mate. At least you're going with who you really-"

"You have no say in this, Terry." How is this about me now, Mike? "You're going with a perfect ten."

"She's a friend, she's older, and she happens to be wearing a fidelity ring. Are you for real?"

"She can't, I don't know, take that ring off for one night?"

"See, Mike, this is exactly why you're not going with a pretty girl-"

"No, Terry, that is _not _exactly why Michael isn't going with a pretty girl."

"I'm doing Vi a favor."

"My sister doesn't need to-"

"She doesn't need to, but she wants to, you see. She doesn't need to be locked up in her dorm sulking, either." Now he's talking. "Seriously, mate. I know you worry about her. I get it. She's your kid sister. Don't you trust her? Don't you trust _me_ with her? Don't you think that, if it comes down to it, I'll keep her safe?"

Almost immediately, Anthony's stance relaxes. Michael does well to appeal to reason, as Anthony rarely resists it. This is no exception.

"Alright." His voice returns to a murmur. "Alright. I'll go talk to her."

Michael doesn't try to argue as Anthony exits the room.

"That went well," he says.

"You're lucky."

"No, I'm reasonable." That he is. But he's most definitely lucky I got here before Anthony could break his nose. He's smiling, though, as if nothing had happened. What a knobhead. "As I said, I'm doing nothing wrong, and... you know him. He had to come around. Now this Daria girl..."

"Stop it."

The fact that I'm prepared for these reactions doesn't mean they're not annoying as fuck. I don't wanna shag her. I don't care. I fancy... someone else. Other girls mean nothing to me.

"Hey, I believe you," Michael assures me. "And if you believe her, then I believe her too. To use your words, it's none of my business. I just wonder how could you... I don't know, _not_ see it."

"I see it, trust me." I shrug. "But other than that, she's just not my type."

"I couldn't think like that," he admits. Big news for no one.

"I'm sure you can't."

"Oi, have some faith in me." His smirk is shameless. I shake my head.

"Give me a good reason."

* * *

><p><span><em>Vivian Goldstein - December 25, 19:14.<em>

Tony was right. But it's not like I'll ever let him know.

My dorm is deserted. Even some of the third years are going, and you can hear the screams and giggles from here and it's just... I want to stay locked up and cry a little. I kinda feel bad for Michael now, who could've gone with any girl he wanted.

_But he chose you, Vi, willingly, and not as a last option._ And the thought makes me relax. _Don't forget. He sees you as his mate's little sister. Keep it together. He can't, won't see you that way. He's made it clear._

He's so dreamy, though.

Just look at him. What would you do, in my place? And why can't _he_ be my brother? But no. I'm stuck with Anthony. Well, it's a good thing Mike's not my brother. This way I get to think he's hot as hell. Just please, don't tell my brother I said that. Ugh. I don't understand Tony. He should be happy it's Mike and not some random idiot. He should be happy I'm happy.

Or not. I have to go now, and I guess it will be fun. But sometimes I do have to listen to Anthony.

Please don't tell him I said that.

"Vivian?" I know that voice too well from my liking. It's Becky from Charms Club. I don't answer, but she barges in anyway. "I wanted to see how you're doing."

I almost regret telling her about Michael earlier today. Almost. But she's the closest thing I have to a friend right now.

"I'm almost ready."

"Let me do your hair." Again, she doesn't wait for an answer before getting to work. Sometimes I hate her for it - but right now, I'm glad to have someone with me.

"Aren't you going to be late?"

"It's Fawley we're talking about. I told him seven thirty just so he'll show up at eight."

"Who voted him president? I swear-"

"You should vote for me for president next year. I'll never be late to a meeting."

I smile at her attempt of an early campaign, and smile even wider when I see myself in the mirror. I don't know what she's doing but now, even without the heels and make-up Becky is wearing, I feel a little more grown-up.

"Nervous?" She asks. I nod. No point in lying to her. "You'll be fine. I'll be there if you need me."

For someone so shameless, Becky's got empathy. At least, she's given me the confidence to go down to the common room and meet with my date. And it's not only him. They're all there -Tony, Mike and Terry- plus my brother's own date.

"Why, hello." Michael doesn't even get up to greet me, but his smirk is appreciative enough.

"Looking sharp," I greet in return. I sit down next to him, suddenly aware of such a thing as _distance_. It feels weird like this, when we're dressed for a night out.

"Shall we go?" Anthony doesn't look me in the eye.

"Please," Terry says quickly. "I don't want to be late to meet Daria."

I just sat down, so I'm reluctant to follow them. Michael waits by my side, though, offering me his hand to help me get up.

"You look great," he whispers in my ear as soon as Tony isn't looking.

"Thanks." _Don't blush, Vi. You can do this_. "You too."

"How's the Great Hall looking?" Michael inquires immediately.

"It's a secret. You'll see when you get there."

The great thing about Charms Club is that you learn super simple Charms that they wouldn't teach you otherwise. Like today, Ira Fawley taught me how they make all those floating candles not drip wax on us. Useless, except when you consider that Shabbat candles just got a lot more interesting.

We're just down the spiral staircase when Terry slows down to walk with us.

"Just look at them two-" He's glaring at Anthony and his date. I follow his command, but I have to look away.

"For God's sake, Terry," I say before I can contain myself. "I'm trying not to."

They both grin.

"What do you say we discard _him _and keep this one?" Michael points at me with a jerk of his head. I cross my arms.

"I'm right here," I remind them. Their smile grows into laughter. Good to know I'm funny. I don't think of myself as funny. I guess I just feel at ease with them. They visit us during the holidays. They were there for Anthony's bar-mitzvah. They're like Anthony's other family, so I also think of them as mine.

Still, I feel so little and insignificant. They talk. I'm quiet. We pass other students -all of them older, no first years- and by the time I get to the Entrance Hall, I already wish I'd stayed in my room. Especially when we're finally introduced to Terry's date. I swear, I'm trying so hard not to feel inadequate - but just look at her.

Anthony was so right. I shouldn't be here.

"Oi, stop staring." Mike snaps me out of it, and I take a moment to appreciate the irony.

"Like I was the only one. She's gorgeous."

"That she is, but-" he offers me his arm, as the doors of the Great Hall open, "-you're my lady tonight."

I take his arm with glee. Even though I still feel weird about this, I remember why I'm here.

* * *

><p><span><em>Morag MacDougal - December 25, 21:08.<em>

A full hour passes before Michael and little Goldstein sit down. They look tired, and happy, and I can't even pretend I'm not jealous. He knows I can dance. We've danced together on social gatherings. Why didn't he bring me as a partner instead?

Oh, that's right: My boyfriend dumped me as soon as he realized that having a girl means you should _probably _take her to the upcoming ball. The bloody Gryffindor. Brave and loyal, my arse. By then it was already too late to make other arrangements, and my two best friends had dates already.

I want to ask Michael to dance -as no one has asked me- but he's eating so heartily that I desist. I'm not about to steal an eleven-year-old's partner, anyway. But I'm so bored. I'm only sitting here because Lisa is sitting here. My other option is Padma - with Weasley and Potter and _no thanks_.

On one side, I've got Terry Boot and his Durmstrang lady, deep in conversation with Goldstein and Brocklehurst. I try to listen in and understand what they mean, but as soon as I hear the word 'Auschwitz' I'm out of there. At my other side, Lisa and Oliver Rivers are doing everything in their power to make everyone else feel alienated. And by that I mean snogging as if there weren't enough hidden corners in the castle to do just that.

I'm in couple hell, for Merlin's sake.

"I told him not to ask," Terry mutters, leaning back to distance himself from the conversation. I examine him for a couple of seconds before saying anything. He doesn't seem to have to made so much of an effort fixing himself up. His curly dark hair looks as it always does, no trace of gel. He's not even wearing contacts instead of his regular glasses. His dress robes are plain black. I appreciate that look. Terry's not trying to hard to impress the Durmstrang chick, making a fool of himself. Then again, Terry Boot doesn't ever make a fool of himself. I respect him for it.

"What did Anthony do now?" I ask.

"Anthony asked Daria about the Jewish Holocaust. It's impolite," he clarifies for me. "It's a painful time in their history."

But I think Terry's date is unaffected by Anthony's curiosity. She's just as curious about us as we all are about her.

"Has she ever asked you about You-Know-Who, Terry?"

"Well, of course."

"How is that any different, then? Besides, it's Muggle history. I bet she doesn't care. As long as he steers clear from Grindelwald-"

"Don't give him ideas, MacDougal. For fuck's sake." I laugh. Terry smiles softly. "I really hope she's okay."

"Well, if all else fails, you should ask her to dance." When all else fails, I get to live vicariously through prettier women.

He has no answer to that. I feel as if I've offended him somehow, though I can't place my finger on what I did wrong. I turn away, but almost immediately, he touches me lightly on the arm, so I turn my eyes to him again.

"Look, Morag, I was wondering-"

But then everyone goes quiet. Terry's hand flies to his wand pocket. They're all staring at one point, and when I bother to look, I find none other than Theodore Nott coming our way. I felt buzzing chills take over my body.

He's staring at me.

Terry is about to speak -to tell him to go away, probably- but that will probably make matters worse. So I take them into my own hands.

"Good evening, Nott," I say as politely as I can. Nott is standing behind me, between me and Terry, and I have to twist my neck to look at him. "What brings you here?"

"Morag MacDougal." He doesn't miss a beat. "I'd be honored if you joined me for a dance."

I can't say I'm not surprised. I know exactly who Nott is, and what he's rumored to have done. He's never been mean to me. I've always wondered why. I look at the table, and save for Durmstrang chick, everyone is staring at him in horror and fury. The answer should be clear... but why? Why say no? It's an experience, isn't it? It's not like he's going to hurt me in front of all these people. If I go, all my friends will know I went with him.

I also want to dance so badly...

I nod once, offering my hand. He takes it softly, in such a way that it just seems impossible he'll hurt me. I just know it. It should be fine.

"You're insane, Morag! Don't go with that pig!" It's Michael who screams. See, Mike, then you should've brought _me _to the ball, if it bothers you so much.

_And what did Terry want to ask me, anyway? _Nott can have his one song. I'll ask Terry later. After the ball, by the looks of it: as I scan the table for him, he's nowhere to be seen. All I can see is Durmstrang chick's crimson robes trailing toward the entrance. I can't help but grin.

_Lucky you, mister._

But Terry, and my happiness at his circumstances, is quickly erased out of my mind. Because Nott's hand is on my waist as the music starts, and I'm so glad to be dancing that I forget everything else.

* * *

><p><span><em>Anthony Goldstein - December 25, 21:44.<em>

I can't help it. I can't help the burning in my chest when I look at Mandy. I can't help my mind going places when she's so quiet, and wonder what she might be thinking at any given moment. She's a mystery, Mandy Brocklehurst. And I want to be the one to crack it. She's so lovely.

I'd learned to dance from Michael, in case she wanted to, but she'd only conceded me the opening dance and begged to sit down afterward. To be honest, that's so much better. Because now we talk. Talking is good.

"Mum's a witch," she was telling me, "and she always told me I could do magic as well. I believed it was all fairytales and got so mad at her... until I received my letter." She giggles. "It makes me wonder what else could be real. I grew up in a Muggle environment, but now I... I sort of believe everything is possible. Everything."

"I get it. I was raised by my Muggle father... you won't believe what magic can do to one's faith." I shake my head. I'm itching to talk about it, but now doesn't feel like the right time. "My mother is a witch as well, but she left us."

"My dad left us, too," she replies quickly. "I mean... well, my mum is thirty-one and unmarried. Do the math. She surely had to drop out of Hogwarts, didn't she? Well... if she was going to dump me with my grandparents anyway, she could've come back to finish. I guess she couldn't stand being around my father."

The honesty with which she speaks of her own circumstances astounds me. I could never speak about mine in such a way.

It only makes me like her more.

"Why'd you reckon your mum left?" she asks with the same sort of uncanny sincerity. I don't mind.

"From what I gather, my mother only told Dad she's a witch a few years down the line. That ruined things for _her_, somehow. I don't truly think that could be it, you know? Dad says he fought to keep us. But I don't believe he had to fight. She doesn't write much. I haven't seen her since she left."

I try not to sound too bothered by any of it, especially after how easy-going she'd been about her own circumstances. Mandy is expressionless for a while, but when she talk, her eyes twinkle.

"Do you think she might have been a pureblood supremacist?"

I open my mouth to deny it, until I understand it makes all the sense in the world. It's the best explanation I've received in my life. It answers all the questions.

"Well, Mandy, now I do."

Mandy smirks, looking down. I'd say she's equal parts abashed and amused by her own theory. She's about to say something else, but the music stops. This signals that the Weird Sisters are about to go on stage. Michael and I lock eyes - we've been waiting for this since the ball was announced. I look at my sister, by his side, and she looks rather indifferent.

Maybe it's time she left.

Now that I speak about leaving, my thoughts drifts to Terry. No matter why he left, I wonder whether he and Daria are going to miss the Weird Sisters show. Good thing Michael isn't paying attention, or Terry will never hear the end of it.

"Anthony," Mandy says softly, "I think I'm going to call it a night."

"What? Why?" But I think I know why. She cares little for the noise and scandal that comes with the Weird Sisters. She wants her peace and quiet. "I'll go with you," I tell her. I can't let my date leave alone.

"Please don't. You were just telling me how much you like the Weird Sisters. Stay, Anthony. Please."

She can be so harsh - but she can also be so gentle. She's begging me, both her hands resting on my arm, to let her go. But this still unsettles me somehow. Was this her plan all along? Or is she letting me down nicely?

"Mandy, I... I just want to make sure I didn't offend you in any way or form."

"No, I really just want to go. Please believe me. It's not personal." I don't make her explain herself any longer - I have no reason not to believe her if she's so insistent. "Breakfast at ten, tomorrow?"

She rarely smiles, but she's smiling at me. She's trying to make me believe her.

"Alright. Goodnight, I guess." I feel a little bit guilty, but I try to convince myself that I'm doing the right thing. She just begged me to stay, didn't she? She'd feel awful if I left. She had turned around already, when I have an idea. "Mandy! Before you go..." She turns around. I beckon her close with my hand. Her eyes ask questions, but she comes close. "Could you ask my sister if she wants to go with you? I fear she might be too proud to say she's not having a good time."

Call me selfish, but I kind of want to hang out with Michael too.

Mandy nods, and walks up to Vivian. I decidedly avoid looking at them as Mandy leans in to whisper in my sister's ear. Vivian will know I set Mandy up to this. I still don't want to make it obvious. So I choose to engage the closest possible person in conversation, but now the two seats beside me are empty...

Just as if God himself had heard me, a girl plops down by my left.

* * *

><p><strong><em>To be continued...<em>**


	3. Chapter 3

_Notes: Same old, with the added pointer that according to WikiA, the Ball took place on Christmas Day and not Christmas Eve. Let me know if canon contradicts this (and where) so I know to edit._

* * *

><p><span><strong>Moral Obligations<strong>

**Part 3/3**

.

_Rebecca Mayer - December 25, 22:03._

"Becky Mayer," I introduce myself. "And this is Ginny Weasley."

Anthony doesn't respond immediately. His little sister is saying goodbye to everyone sitting here, along with Mandy Brocklehurst, who just stands there awkwardly. I take the opportunity to make sure Ginny hasn't run away. I don't care that she doesn't want to be here. We're ladies on a mission.

Anthony smiles, then looks at me.

"I'm Anthony Goldstein." He introduces himself for Ginny's sake. "To what do I owe the pleasure of being approached in front of my date?"

"Oi, Brocklehurst!" I yell. Anthony jerks on his chair. Brocklehurst turns to us, and Merlin, she's furious. Vivian is yawning loudly beside her. "Do you mind if I steal him from you?"

Her smile is venomous. "Well, Mayer, I doubt you could."

With that, she leaves. Anthony looks amused. I don't. What a royal bitch.

"See? She doesn't care." I grin, not letting Brocklehurst get to me. "Anyway, Goldstein, to answer your question... I'm just the middleman. Middlewoman, rather. Ginny wants to be introduced to your friend."

"Shut up, Becky."

"You _just _pointed at Michael Corner and told me you think he's cute-"

"That doesn't mean that I want to be introduced. Not that I _don't_ want to be introduced, but-"

Anthony's looking at Michael, as if seriously considering it. Well, Vivian's gone, isn't she? And his eyes come back to me for an instant.

"Oi, Michael!" When Anthony has gotten Michael's attention, he points at the empty chair next to him. Michael complies with haste. "Say, how subtle was I when sending Vi to bed?"

Oh, so it was his idea. Nice. I empathized with his plight as much as I empathized with hers. Poor thing was both so excited and scared when she told me about it this afternoon... I get it, I really do. But I'm sure Anthony thinks this isn't appropriate for her, and I'm inclined to agree.

"I wouldn't have suspected it was you if you hadn't sent Brocklehurst over," Michael told him. "She blew your cover, mate. But I don't think Vi cared and frankly..." He stopped abruptly.

"And frankly, neither did you," Anthony completes. If he's offended, his face doesn't show it. "At least she didn't argue and- I'm so sorry, Michael... these are Becky Mayer and Ginny Weasley." His head turns to us. "He's Michael Corner."

"I know you," Ginny tells him. There's a faint blush on her cheeks. "You play Quidditch for Ravenclaw, don't you?"

That's the Ginny I know. I was sure she'd lose her shame once introduced. But when I lock eyes with her, it's clear that she still wants to murder me. Oh well. I'll just shut up. Anthony is clearly better at these things than I am.

"Say, Becky." Anthony turns his back on Michael so he can speak more plainly to me. "Is Becky short for Rebecca?"

Stupid conversation starter. Frankly, I don't care. I understand what he's trying to do.

"Call me that, Goldstein, and you'll be dead in the spot."

"You have a Jewish name, though. Do you have Jewish ancestors or...?"

"I don't know whether to be flattered or offended... is that an euphemism for something?"

"You bloody purebloods," he says, shaking his head. "Nevermind, then. It's the religion me and my sister practice. I just thought... nevermind."

Oh, right. Vivian has tried explaining it to me, but she sort of lost me with the 'invisible almighty being' thing, because it doesn't escape me that I own a wand. And I can do stuff with it. Stuff this God being supposedly does. But Vivian just shrugged when I pointed it out.

"Right," I say. Then I lower my voice and lean it to speak to Anthony. "That was so smooth of you... introducing Ginny like that, I mean. You need to teach me."

There's a gleam in his eyes and a shine in his smile when I'm done speaking. I feel it right in the chest. _Stop doing that_, I mentally tell him.

"Do you have a matchmaking habit, Becky, or it's only with your friends?"

"Ginny and I aren't even friends. We just sit together in Runes... I noticed she was a little bit down though, and I thought I'd cheer her up. That _is_ a habit of mine."

"Healthy habit, trying to make people happy."

Why am I blushing at such a lousy compliment?

"You, on the other hand, are too good at this. Do you have a matchmaking habit?"

"I have a subtlety habit."

I don't know what to say to that, until it dawns on me exactly what he's done.

"Are you trying to imply I'm not subtle?"

He smirks and says nothing.

Why haven't I talked to him before? I mean, Ravenclaws are witty and stuff. I should know it. I'm a Ravenclaw. But he's this quiet, calm bloke who wouldn't hurt a fly... and now I realize he's actually quite devilish, and easy to talk to, and I like it. I like him.

The lights are slightly dimming already, turning from white to slightly orange. I know this is the cue for the Weird Sisters to take the stage (I should know. It was a Charms Club idea.) I want to tell Ginny to go... but she has already left with Michael for the stage. Not losing time, are we?

Anthony notices the direction of my gaze and gets up.

"I just let my date go so I don't miss the Weird Sisters... no way I'm just staying here. Coming?"

It's clear to me that he likes Brocklehurst (for whatever reason) but something inside me burns with his invitation. We promptly join Ginny and Michael, as the band finally comes on stage. I'm staring at Anthony, though, because he doesn't usually show this much excitiement about anything but he's just awed when the Weird Sisters show themselves.

He's not even hot, but just now there's some sort of... beauty? Can you say that about a bloke? I just look at him, and I can't get enough of him, and every time his dark eyes are on mine I feel as if my heart stops and...

No. No, no, no. I can't fall in love with Anthony Goldstein. I can't. Why, you ask? Well, because... reasons. I can't fall in love. I can't even fancy him a little. Reasons: #1 I'd never talked to him until tonight. #2 He fancies someone else. #3 ...everything else. Like I need more reasons.

Anthony senses my stare and smiles at me. That's exactly when I realize I'm completely lost.

* * *

><p><span><em>Ginny Weasley - December 26, 00:02.<em>

I shouldn't have told Mayer absolutely anything. She couldn't be discreet even if her life depended on it. I mean... look at the way she just gapes at Anthony Goldstein. I bet that's the real reason she dragged me to meet them.

But I can't be mad, because look at me now. I am having fun with Corner. He's sweet, he's funny, he plays Quidditch, and he likes the Weird Sisters. We're off to a good start. So yes. I've made a new friend. A new hot friend. To top it off, the Weird Sisters sing all the good songs... and Corner knows them all. We just sing, jump and dance and it's so much fun to be with someone as excited about this as I am...

I just met him, and he's already more amazing than any boy I've ever met. Except for one boy. No matter how perfect Corner seems, he's just not Harry.

And Michael seems even more perfect, because it's not like Harry sees me as a girl. Not even as his best friend's little sister, because that would mean there's some feminity there. I'm a non-entity to him... okay, I admit it, that's not true. But you get my point. He's nice to me and all, but he doesn't look at me the way Michael is looking at me right now.

And yet...

_Stop it now_, I tell myself. _Don't let thoughts of Harry ruin your night. You're having fun. Besides, who says he even sees you that way...?_

"That was amazing," he says. Everyone starts heading toward the entrance and it seems to catch him by surprise. "Wait, is this thing over?"

"I'd say it is."

He sighs loudly, and starts to follow the other students in their way out. I go with him.

"I wish it had gone longer," he expresses sullenly.

"Me too," I agree. And I surprise myself. Hanging out with Neville had been almost painful. I'm now so glad that Mayer is such a blunt and nosy twat. Look at that - I had fun at the ball.

We're just getting out of the Great Hall. He also sleeps in one of the castle's towers, so we both make a left for the grand staircase. Michael is walking slowly.

"I've heard the grounds also look amazing tonight. Wanna go take a look?"

So maybe he does see me that way. Okay, this is new. I want to negate it, to say that he's just being friendly but... the grounds? really? No. I'm not ready for this. I just don't know how to let him down firmly but nicely. And maybe I'm getting the wrong impression, so I can't say anything much.

"I... I don't think so, Corner," I answer as vaguely as I can. "I'm sorry."

"No problem." I try to read his face, but there's nothing there but that ever-present smile. "My date was a Charms Club girl, and she was excited about showing them to me. If she asks, I'll tell her I didn't want to go out in the cold."

So if he's not going on his own, then I was right. Good. But I like it that he doesn't seem even a little bit upset, like I owe him something. And then I realize exactly what he's said.

"Wait... you had a date?" I ask. Where is she? Why is he with me and not with her? "I was under the impression you'd come only with your friends."

"No, the three of us had dates. I brought Anthony's little sister. As a favor, really."

"Oh, I see. Many girls did that. I'm going to be honest... I only said yes to Longbottom because I couldn't have come otherwise. But some girls- I know that Mayer asked an older student to bring her in exchange for Charms Club duties."

"Vivian did nothing of the sort. I asked her. She looked so sad about not coming... and I just wanted a no-worries sort of situation."

"And you chose your friend's little sister to avoid drama?" Oh, the irony. Maybe it is a good thing Harry didn't think of asking me, now that I look at it like this.

"Well, maybe it wasn't a smart thing to do. But I just thought of bringing a friend... Vi came first and well, she's a friend."

It's very unassuming how he says it, as if he doesn't realize it's not a common train of thought. It's kind of endearing.

"Not smart," I concede. "But it was definitely a very sweet thing to do."

"Yeah, well. I'm not sure she had much fun."

Corner clearly doesn't want to speak about it so I ask, "Did _you _have fun?"

"I did have fun with her. She'd bragged about her dancing skills and she delivered. And I had fun with you too, Weasley." He lets that sink in. "So I guess I can't complain."

We've reached the top of the grand staircase, and this means the night is over for us. I look him in the eye.

"This was fun," I say. "Goodnight, Michael."

"Goodnight... Ginny."

I can't help but notice that Michael is standing very close. And that he lingers.

My heart speeds up, but he takes one step back and laughs to himself as he averts his eyes. He raises his hand in goodbye once more before walking away from me. I stare at him for a few seconds, but then I turn around so as to not be caught in the act. I can't lie. I was so sure he'd kiss me, or at least attempt to hold my hand, or something. He shows interest. There's no room for doubt...

But no. I'm not ready for it. I've never been kissed, so I guess I'm glad he didn't try, no matter how much chemistry there is between us. Part of me wants it because, well, why not? But maybe I'm being silly, though - both for not letting him, and wanting it. And I'm confused enough as it is.

All I know is that he didn't make a definitive move. While that was the right thing to do, and I'm glad he respected my wishes... well, maybe that's exactly why I'm left wanting more.

* * *

><p><span><em>Michael Corner - December 26, 00:41.<em>

"Don't start." Terry has just entered our dorm, which would be empty if it wasn't for me and Anthony. Entwhistle has gone home and Cornfoot is nowhere to be seen. "Even more, you'll see Daria still has her ring tomorrow and no, Michael, they can't be just charmed off for a night."

"Calm down," Anthony says. "I believe you. I just wonder what did you have to talk about for so long."

"Nothing much," Terry answers quickly - a bit too quickly. I want to believe him, but he's acting dodgy. "She told me about her boyfriend and her friends and life at Durmstrang and I told her about... about stuff, you know. Hogwarts. The houses-"

"You left rather abruptly." Anthony insists. He's so sly, even I don't know what he's trying to do. But he's trying to do something. I know him too well. "I thought something was troubling you."

"Yeah, no." Terry sits next to me in my bed. We're both facing Anthony. "Well. Neither of us wanted to dance and we were full, so what's the point. I was fine. I'm fine." Again, he speaks too quickly. What is he hiding? "What's the point in staying?"

"The point is being with us, mate," I interrupt. "We had the Weird Sisters -the Weird Sisters, Terry!- and both our dates left early. Anthony's been sulking about Brocklehurst-"

"I don't sulk, and besides-"

"What about Mayer, anyway?" I was hoping she'd erase Brocklehurst from his mind. She might be a bit obnoxious, but she's interesting enough for Anthony's standards. "You and her hit it off, didn't you?"

Anthony frowns, as if just now the idea has occurred to him.

"Don't, Michael. Just as you believe Terry, please believe me now." Well. When he puts it that way... besides, he was already in the dorm when I got here. "I was just trying to tell you that I have a breakfast date with Mandy tomorrow. You know her. She just doesn't like all the noise."

Terry and I lock eyes. Neither says what we know we're both thinking, and Terry is the one to change the subject.

"What did you do after Vivian left, Michael?"

"That's when Mayer and Weasley joined us," I say, and I can't help but think of Ginny. Well. It's not like I stopped thinking about her since we said our goodbyes, but that's a tale for another time.

"Which Weasley are we talking about? There's around twelve of them."

"The girl, Terry." Anthony is amused.

"Oh. Right. I wasn't aware you talk to her."

"Anthony introduced me."

Again, our eyes are on Anthony.

"Where do you know her from?" I ask.

"I don't."

Once again, I don't know what he's done. But he's done something.

"Weasley is great," I confirm. Great is an understatement, but I'll let it be. No matter what, nothing was better than hanging out with my two best mates. "I'm going to be honest and say I wasn't expecting to meet anyone at the Ball. I just wanted peace and quiet. You did something, Anthony, didn't you?"

"Mayer just wanted to know how Vi was doing. I did nothing."

"Mayer's already campaigning for presidency of the Charms Club, I hear." That's Terry, and his habit of saying stuff I just don't care about. Knowing him, he's barely listening to us. "I reckon she's going to get it. Daria saw what they did outside in the gardens, and she wants to join. Do you think they'll let her?"

"I'll ask Vivian." Anthony and I speak at the same time. He raises an eyebrow. "_I_ will ask Vivian," he repeats.

And I laugh. I can't help it. I'm not laughing at Anthony's overprotective tendencies or Terry's constant worry for Daria. Well, maybe a little. They're both such prats, looking after these two girls... and come to think about it, I'm an even bigger prat because Ginny was right: I chose my best friend's little sister as a worry-free option, and that was stupid. And yes, I didn't want anything when it came to girls. I took steps to avoid it. But Ginny Weasley appeared and... look.

"This evening didn't go as planned, did it?" I explain. They're still looking at me as if I'm a nutter. "It's not like it's such a bad thing..."

"No, it's not," Anthony concedes with a smile.

"I had fun," Terry whispers, frowning, as if he was surprised by that turn of events. "I guess that's what matters, doesn't it? We had fun, even if we weren't together."

"Michael met a girl, I've got a second date, and you've found a friend you can confide in. I'd say we did have fun."

"That's not..." Terry tries to argue, but then deflates and looks away. "I don't mean to imply you're not the best mates I could wish for."

I'm about to mock him for being sentimental, but I stop myself. If he chooses to confide in someone else rather than his best mates, there's probably a reason. I guess it's for the best, then, that he's at least got someone other than us he can talk to.

Besides, I can still coax it out of Anthony without angering Terry. Yeah, let's go with that.

"This deserves a celebration," I decide. "Where's the Butterbeer?"

"We've got none," Terry points out, but I'm not giving up so easily.

"Entwhistle's Butterbeer. He's got a stash, hasn't he?"

"I've got the moral obligation to inform you he doesn't want us touching it."

"Oi, Terry, I've got the moral obligation to force one down your throat. Among friends."

"I'd like to see you forcing one down his throat." Anthony is smirking.

"You're the one that wants to see it," I point out. Terry sighs, as if to say _very mature._

"Well." Anthony ignores my comeback. "Now that we mention moral obligations, mine is to ask you not to check in the green box under his bed under any circumstances."

"So you mean to say..." I move to the other side of my bed and jump off, falling to my knees next to Entwhistle's bed. From underneath, I pull out the box Anthony mentioned. "I'm not opening this box." I open the box. "I'm not taking three bottles out of it." I take three bottles out of the box.

Anthony is quick to snatch one. I offer a second one to Terry.

"I'm not drinking."

"No, you're not drinking." I push a bottle on his hand. He takes it with a deep sigh. "Seriously, mate. Who are you kidding."

"To social pressure." Anthony raises his bottle, then drinks before Terry and I can respond. We've insisted enough... now Terry can pretend we forced him to do it, if anyone asks.

I might not be able to guess all his secrets, but I do believe I know him too well.

"To more nights like this one," I say.

"To friends," Terry counters.

I have to confess, this is the best Butterbeer I've had in my life. It's forbidden, sure, but that only makes it better. And to top it off, I'm with my two best mates after an unforgettable evening.

That's all I could possibly ask for.


End file.
